


To Build a Life On

by Adlerre



Category: The Conjuring (Movies)
Genre: Ed is so sweet it's adorable, F/M, High School, Lorraine is a badass, Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adlerre/pseuds/Adlerre
Summary: “Is it a ‘try to make friends’ kind of year or a ‘keep your head down and ignore that Snider kid’ kinda year?” Her father’s gruff voice fills the room before he drags himself in; she got her morning attitude from her mother that’s for sure.“Hmm, got a quarter? I can flip it if that helps.”__The story of two crazy kids meeting in high school and beyond.
Relationships: Ed Warren/Lorraine Warren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	To Build a Life On

She’s no stranger to being alone. 

It’s nothing new. 

Just as she’s no stranger to the image of old Ms. Murray still settled at her living room window, staring out, months after her passing. Just as she still catches a glimpse of her old dog, Rocket, out of the corner of her eye when the milk man drives by. 

No, Lorraine is no stranger to these sights. No stranger to the isolation they cause. Never quite sure if the person in front of her is truly there or on another plane of existence. Something that had certainly scared away any potential playdates in her toddler and preschool years.

One could say this isolation was due to her quiet nature, the kids at school seeming to believe it has to do with her feeling better than them (a rumor spread by Tommy Sinder after the third dismissal of his invite to the theatre). Truth be told, Lorraine would have gone if the darkness of the theatre didn’t bring out the faces even more clearly, would have gone if Tommy’s older brother didn’t catch the corner of her eye every now and again. His figure tends to hang around the cross and flowers settled on the side of the road where he took his last breath. 

The town avoids that street these days. Lorraine even more than most. 

Lorraine became used to being alone, especially as senior year approached and the summer days spent reading and avoiding Ms. Murray’s window as she grabbed the morning paper, spilled into her early morning wake up and buttering toast as light drifts into the kitchen. 

“First day of school, eh?” Her mother’s tired voice greets her from behind a coffee mug as Lorraine stares out the window, Rocket laying beneath the shade of a tree. 

“Yes, in all its glory.” A smirk colors her face as she turns from the window, taking a bite of her toast

“Is it a ‘try to make friends’ kind of year or a ‘keep your head down and ignore that Snider kid’ kinda year?” Her father’s gruff voice fills the room before he drags himself in; she got her morning attitude from her mother that’s for sure.

“Hmm, got a quarter? I can flip it if that helps.” 

Her father huffs out a laugh as he sends her a wink, her mother’s eyes rolling. 

“I do wish you’d try, Lorraine.” Her mother starts, “Senior year is supposed to be fun.” 

Before Lorraine can so much as let out a sigh, her father’s voice cuts in. 

“Ah Helen, leave the girl alone. It’s not Lorraine’s fault she’s got enough sense as to stay away from those hooligans. Just last weekend we about had to bring in half her class for their party out on Wilson’s ranch.” 

Lorraine supposes it should hurt that she hadn’t so much as heard of the party. ‘Should’ being the key word. Her lips do nothing but quirk up at the edges as she watches Rocket chase a butterfly through the yard.

“I’m just saying, a friend or two might be nice. What about that Evan’s girl? Rita? Rosa?”

“Rebecca?” Her father jumped in as if a prize was awaiting his guess

“Ruth.” Lorraine answers, “We haven’t been friends since I told her her grandma missed her in second grade.” 

“Ah.” 

The table is silent. 

“Well, it’s not like it wasn’t true.” George huffed

His words are met with a glare from his wife. 

“What’s the golden rule, Lorraine?” She prompts, flipping the paper haphazardly into her husband’s hands

“Be honest but not completely truthful.” Lorraine mumbles, eyes rolling as she grabs for the entertainment section from her father’s waiting hand. A smile and kiss to his cheek show her gratitude. 

Just because she couldn’t watch the films, didn’t mean she didn’t  _ want  _ to.

A ‘good, keep that in mind’ from her mother follows her out of the room. She grabs her bag and heads for the door, pace steady as she readies herself for another year of being unknown. Another year of being alone. 

It’s nothing new. 

Her gaze stays on the pavement as she nears the Murray house. Her locker squeaks as she tries to shove her lunch bag inside. Students hug and greet each other enthusiastically around her, a circle of distance built by more than just space separates her from her peers. 

Alone is nothing new. 

She steadies herself in the back row of each classroom she enters. Focused as she is on keeping her back to a wall, her view of the room complete. It’s her habit, the one thing she makes sure of in each class as she enters. 

Lorraine has learned that if she can see it coming, it isn’t quite as scary, isn’t quite as hard to ignore. A shiver crawls up her spine at the memory of turning around to pass a paper to the student behind her only to be met with the all too realistic face of a recently passed teacher. 

Ms. Snieder had been oh so nice. But to this day Lorraine cannot think of her for the ominous fearful face that met her eight year old self. 

So, in the back she sits. 

It’s in third period economics that she notices the whispers that had fluttered throughout each class were more than just first day catch ups. It wasn’t until third period that a new student joined them. 

For as small as their town is, a new face is hard to come by.

As much as Lorraine keeps her head down, she still knows her classmates. From Jenny Reich who made an entirely too combustible volcano in fifth grade science, to Robbie Benth who threw a pitch so hard the baseball coach swears it burnt his mitt, Lorraine knows them all. 

Edward Warren. 

Now he,  _ he _ , she didn’t know. 

She spares little more than a glance as he walks into the room, introduced by the teacher as a new face was just as unique to him as it was to his students. 

Lorraine thinks little of it as the newcomer settles himself in the second row. In passing she notes he has a good smile, even if it was a bit nervous as he stood beside the professor. 

Within seconds he is brought into conversation with the group around him, offers to help him find his classes, girls twirling their hair with soft smiles, and boys asking what sports he plays pollute the afternoon air. 

By the time class begins, Lorraine has learned -through no eavesdropping at all- that he goes by Ed and Thanksgiving football games are his forte. The rest of their conversation is lost to the air as Lorraine catches herself and attempts to focus back on her book. 

The lecture is as boring as any first day lecture. Syllabus work, a lecture on the importance of economics, and a firm refusal to accept senoritis as a late work excuse. The saving grace of a small school being the lack of any ice breakers. 

From Economics came lunch. Lorraine settled beneath a shaded tree out of the way of the chatter and movement of the more populated areas. It has been her spot for years now. Her back leaning comfortably against it’s truck, the tree acts as a solace, a friend. 

It still has the divet of a cross she had scratched in it back in sophomore year when spirits began to follow her around the halls. A saving grace she runs her hands over on the harder days. 

She settles her back to the wood, paper bag to the side as she brings a book onto her lap. Some days she doesn’t read it, just keeps it there as an excuse, a way to explain away her isolation. To own it. 

Many days she finds herself here staring up into the leaves, watching the breeze as it shifts the greenery. Watching the sun as it peeks through. 

She can breathe easier here. Back to a sturdy tree, cross engraved, alone but safe.

As the warning bell rings, she shifts on to her knees cleaning up her lunch with a flourish. It isn’t until a wayward breeze rustles her hair into a truly comical sight, that she notices her napkin making a run for it on the wind. 

A quick chuckle leaves her mouth as she lunges for it, hand stretched out, eyes bright. 

The wind is not her friend, she decides. Taking a moment to brush her hair from her line of sight, she watches as the napkin gains momentum through the shaggy grass. 

A boot comes to stop it, gently crushing it to a halt. 

“Oh, thank you.” Lorraine says in greeting, eyes stalling on the trapped napkin. “You’d think the blasted thing hated me or something.” She jokes before she remembers where she is, or rather, who she is. 

A smirk lights Ed’s face as he chuckles at her words. 

“Now, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to run from you.” He seems to catch himself then. Cheeks turning red as he reaches down to grab the runaway. “I mean- Uh-” A throat clear. “Happy to help, I’m Ed.” 

There’s that smile again. 

“Lorraine.” She smiles back, reaching to take the napkin from him as she does.

“So what class do you ha-” 

Ed is cut off by the call of his name across the yard. A group of boys on the football team trying to get his attention. 

Lorraine remembers herself. Remembers who she is here, and recoils her still outstretched hand. 

Before Ed can turn back to her, before he can walk away, she has steeled herself back to the girl she needs to be here. 

The loner girl this school knows. 

Her thank you is lost to the wind as she quickly turns to leave. No sense in letting herself be upset about his distraction, no sense in caring that he would no doubt join them without a second thought to her. 

That smile  _ was _ nice though. 

**Author's Note:**

> adlerre over on tumblr :) Let me know if you like it, I have far too many plans for this story!


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